I'll Keep You Afloat
by SantittanyForever
Summary: Santana is a professional swimmer who is firmly in the closet when it comes to her career. But when shy intern Brittany arrives, could she be the one to pull Santana out? AU Brittana three-shot.
1. Swim

Santana feels the water glide over her as she pushes through, stroke, kick, stroke, kick, stroke, kick. She turns her head out of the water, inhaling deeply, before she plunges under once again. She feels exhilarated. She could never tire of this, this feeling she gets whenever she swims. Something takes over her, something carnal and instinctive; it just feels natural, like she was born to do this. She senses the nearing pool wall and braces herself, somersaulting beneath the crystalline waves and pushing off the wall with her legs, resuming her confident strokes back up the length of the pool. She continues this for another half an hour or so until she sees a dark shadow looming over the water as she once again approaches the edge. She surfaces, breathing heavily, blinking to clear the chlorine haze that she has become so accustomed to.

"Rachel, hey." She pants, greeting her manager with a small smile as she hoists herself out of the pool.

"Hello Santana." The short brunette nods brusquely.

"How's it goi-" But Santana's sentence is ended abruptly as a towel is thrust enthusiastically into her arms, smothering her a little, muffling her words. She pulls the material down, and is greeted with a pair of sparkling blue eyes, bluer than the pool water that shimmers behind her.

"Oh, Santana, this is Brittany. She's an intern, she's going to be trailing me for the next few months, watching how I run things. She'll also be serving as an assistant to me, which equates to you as well. Hence her eager, albeit slightly overzealous, act of fetching you a towel."

"Huh. Thank you." Santana muses, studying Brittany for a moment, barely registering the sound of Rachel turning and making her way back towards the office. The blonde's eyes dart around nervously as she now stands alone, and Santana can tell that she's trying to adjust to unfamiliar surroundings, taking in everything at once, which can be overwhelming, as Santana very well remembers from when she started out as a rookie. But Brittany then senses Santana's mocha eyes on her and turns her head a fraction, meeting Santana's curious gaze with a shy smile.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Lopez." She speaks softly.

Santana revels in the soft tones of her voice, liking the way her name rolls off the woman's tongue.

"Please, call me Santana." She assures.

"Santana." She nods, smiling a little more before bobbing her head and scurrying away.

Santana chuckles, but her smile is wiped from her face when she catches Rachel watching her from the office window, her stony expression enough to quell even the brightest sunshine. The swimmer gulps, knowing that she's going to get her ear chewed off by Rachel about this later. But for now, she resolves to just get back to her training, every so often letting her thoughts linger on a certain blonde with the most dazzling smile…

* * *

A few hours pass, and Santana glances at the large white clock that hangs above the pool, gasping as she realises just how much time has lapsed. She drags herself out, shivering, wondering where Brittany is with the towels when she really needs one. She catches herself giggling as she remembers the adorable way the blonde had fumbled to shove a towel into her arms, shaking her head as she meanders back to the locker room to shower and get dressed.

She begins to hum a tune to herself as she sways around, stripping her swimming costume off and wrapping herself in a towel she had snatched from the pile awaiting her as she had walked through the door. Feeling bolstered by her apparent privacy, her singing intensifies, bouncing off the lockers, echoing around the room. She loses herself in the song, adding her own dance moves, and is just about to jump up onto the bench and compose her own version of the Macarena when she hears a stifled giggle float through the air. She freezes, her head whipping around, trying with all of her might to remain composed while she discerns where the noise came from.

A flash of yellow catches the corner of her eye, and she twirls, the culprit caught in her gaze, a helpless rabbit caught in the glare of blinding headlights, trying to run away.

"Brittany?"

The blonde turns agonisingly slowly, her head bowed meekly, hands twisted together nervously.

"I- I'm sorry, Miss Lopez. I didn't mean to interrupt, and I, I wasn't spying on you or anything, I just came to make sure you got the towels I left for you, and I…" she trailed off quietly, eyes glued to the floor.

Santana feels her heart swell and her resolve shatter. She knows in that instant that she'd never have the heart to yell at someone like Brittany, someone so fragile and genuine. She steps takes a step towards the panicked intern, before changing direction and walking over to her locker while speaking gently.

"It's alright, Brittany. You're not in trouble. You just… surprised me, that's all." She giggles, wondering what on earth would have crossed Brittany's mind in that moment, seeing Santana Lopez, professional swimmer, thrusting and singing along to cheesy pop songs.

She turns to look at the blonde as she reaches in to retrieve her clothes, and sees Brittany watching her, a hint of a smile ghosting across her lips. Santana notices how soft and pink Brittany's lips look, and finds herself staring at them for a moment too long. She clears her throat awkwardly and turns back to her locker, feeling Brittany's eyes burning into her back.

"Okay, well, I'll see you tomorrow, I guess." Brittany mumbles, her shyness once again taking over.

"Bye." Santana calls, not trusting herself to turn again and look at Brittany for fear of what other thoughts might cross her mind.

It isn't the fact that she is attracted to a woman that's bothering her so much. Hell, she'd come to terms with that years ago, been through all the denial and pain and coming out. Now she was out and proud, well, for the most part. She just wasn't allowed to come out in the professional aspect of her life, or, as Rachel said, on a daily basis (as if she needed reminding), 'she had to be straight if she wanted to be great'.

But the thing that is worrying her most in this instant is how drawn she is to Brittany. There was something about the blonde, something magnetic. Santana felt a need, almost a compulsion, to get to know her. And considering she had barely held a proper conversation with the blonde, this was slightly unnerving, to say the least.

Her train of thought is interrupted, however, by an intrusive and rather obnoxious cough coming from behind her.

"Santana."

This displeased tone is one that Santana has heard many times before, and she turns reluctantly, lifting her eyes from the floor to see Rachel watching her, a stern expression on her face.

"Rachel, hey."

"Don't 'Rachel, hey' me. I presume you know why I'm here."

Santana knows exactly why she's here, but she decides to feign innocence, shaking her head while shrugging naïvely.

Her manager sighs, massaging her temples before straightening up to look Santana in the eye.

"Listen, Lopez. I don't know how many times we've been through this, but frankly I'm getting tired of repeating myself, so I'm going to make this brief; I have told you, _countless times_, that I have no problem with you wanting to sleep with women. That is fine by me. What you do in your own time is your business. But, while you work as a part of my team, you abide by my rules. And I can't have a lesbian on my team. People will talk. Your teammates might begin to feel uncomfortable having you in the locker room with them. And it could tarnish your image in a way that could be irreversible, your fans may even turn against you, there's no telling what might happen. And I saw the way you were looking at Brittany, and I'm warning you now – don't go there."

"But-"

"No buts. I know this may seem harsh Santana, but I'm just looking out for both you and my team. Someday you'll understand that. And until that day comes, I want your closet door to remain firmly shut whenever you're involved in anything to do with your swimming career. Is that clear?"

"Crystal." Santana mutters begrudgingly, eyes narrowing as Rachel smiles before exiting the locker room.

She can feel the latent anger bubbling and rising up in her chest, and before she has completed her next thought, she finds her feet carrying her towards the gym, which is situated through a pair of double doors adjacent to the pool. She's now glad that her shower has been postponed, as she dons her boxing gloves that she uses for fitness training and begins to mercilessly pummel one of the sand dummies. She feels her rage draining out of her slowly with each blow, and soon finds herself exhausted. She places her gloves back on the rack hanging on the wall and shuffles back to the showers, grabbing her clothes before scuffling into one of the shower cubicles, turning the water up to its highest heat and letting the scalding water caress her tense body, sighing with relief as she feels her muscles relax under the warmth.

Her mind is still seething though, still upset by Rachel's unintended homophobia even after all these years. Her manager always seems to make out like Santana is some sort of player, the way she harps on about not being seen out being intimate with women and keeping her sexuality hidden. But in reality, Santana has only ever had one serious girlfriend, from college until last year, and they had eventually broken up because her girlfriend couldn't handle the pressure of Santana having to skewer the connection between her professional and personal life. She had told Santana that she wanted to be with someone who she could actually be with, not skulk around in the shadows like they had something to hide or be ashamed of. Santana had actually agreed with what she was saying, and even though it hurt, she let her go, to be with someone who deserved her.

This alone makes Santana's blood boil when she considers the way Rachel spoke to her, but then for Rachel to assume… what? What did Rachel think was going to happen?

Santana sighs as she eventually opens her eyes, letting the water cascade down her face for a moment longer before turning it off. She steps out and finds herself shivering, but not just from the cold. Just outside the cubicle in which she was showering, on a bench, is a clean towel accompanied by one of the small rectangular foam floaties from the kid's section, with a note scrawled onto a piece of paper atop it. She peers down, her eyes drinking in the slopes and slants of the unfamiliar handwriting:

_I know it's not a real microphone, but I thought you could use this next time you want to stage another one-woman show in the locker room. –Brittany._

Santana feels her heart trip a little as she reads the note a second time, noticing how Brittany dots her I's with little hearts and how the tail of the Y in her name trails down a little before ending with a gentle flick.

She doesn't realise that she is clutching the note to her chest until a few seconds later, when she shakes her head to clear her mind and mentally chastises herself, vowing to nip this in the bud and not encourage Brittany any more than she has done, for fear of putting either of their jobs in jeopardy. She resolves to simply focus on her career and to leave Brittany to concentrate on her own. Little does she know just how difficult this is going to become.

* * *

**I would really love to hear what you all think of the story so far. Don't hesitate to leave a review, they're always welcome! :) **


	2. Sink

The sun is just peeking over the horizon when Santana arrives at the swimming facility where she trains. While most people are still rousing themselves from sleep at this time, the swimmer has become accustomed to early mornings and long days; nothing a shot of espresso and a cold shower can't fix.

As she enters the lobby, she smiles at Kurt, the flamboyant young man who handles the administrative side of things for Rachel, before tracing the familiar route to the locker room. She stops for a moment as she enters the deserted room, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, savouring the tranquillity awaiting her. That's one of the perks of getting to the pool so early; she has the place to herself for a while before her teammates arrive for group training.

She walks over to her locker, smiling as she spots the clean towel sitting idly on the bench parallel to it. For the past three weeks now, Brittany had been leaving one towel in that exact spot, as opposed to piling them by the door for Santana to take herself. Santana had found it surprising and rather cute the first time, but now, three weeks later, it was just plain adorable. She can't supress the smirk that threatens to split her face, as she imagines the endearing blonde rushing around in her usual flustered manner, making sure she got here before Santana.

The brunette swimmer then begins contemplating just how early Brittany would have to wake up in order to get here before her, and feels a strange yet soothing warmth encase her heart as she mulls over the blonde's incredibly sweet actions in her head while she changes into her swimming gear.

A few minutes later, and Santana is walking brusquely towards the door leading to the pool, her training mind-set firmly fixed in place. She is so enveloped in her thoughts that she isn't really watching where she is going, and so is rather startled when she collides with a soft body after pulling open the door that would take her into the pool room.

"Oh, my god! Miss Lopez, I- I am SO sorry, honestly, this is all my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going, I'm terribly sorry, I just…"

Santana is a little dumbstruck by this sudden flurry of activity so early in the morning, and is seemingly incapable of doing anything but watch with wide eyes and a bemused smirk as Brittany continues to babble on.

"…And it'll never happen again, I promise, and I really hope I haven't injured you, oh god, what if I've injured you? Rachel will kill me, and I really need this internship, oh crap-"

"Brittany!" Santana finally interjects, grabbing the blonde's shoulders and holding her gaze.

"Miss Lopez?"

"First of all, I already told you to call me Santana; none of this 'Miss Lopez' business. Second, why on earth are you so worked up about this? Neither of us saw the other one coming, it was a total accident, and I'm not injured in the slightest."

"Are you sure?" the blonde asks softly, her voice wavering a little as she nibbles her lip nervously.

"Positive." Santana affirms, smiling reassuringly.

Brittany smiles a little too, a small sigh of relief escaping her lips.

"Well, that's… good." She nods, glancing down to see Santana's hands still gripping her arms.

"Oh. Um. Yeah. Okay." Santana mutters, clearing her throat uneasily while she brings her hands swiftly back to her sides. "See you around, I guess."

"Bye." Brittany all but whispers, as Santana brushes past her into the pool room.

Brittany moves to walk towards the lobby where she was instructed to meet Rachel, but is pulled back momentarily by Santana's silky voice floating through the doorway.

"Oh, and Brittany? Thanks for the towel."

The blonde grins to herself, ducking her head shyly before leaving the locker room.

* * *

Santana feels at peace, like she is at one with the water. She glides through, unbroken strides, muscles rippling under the flowing waves. This is where she feels at home. She settles into a rhythm; it's almost compositional, as if she is following musical notes, the swell of the instruments propelling her forwards, creating a thrum of energy and passion.

She is distracted, however, by a flash of blonde as she pulls her head up to take a breath, and feels her heart thrum and jitter. She dips her head back under, suddenly feeling inexplicably self-conscious.

'_So what if Brittany's watching? Just focus on completing your laps.' _She mentally reprimands herself.

But she can't help but feel an added sense of pressure with the blonde's unexpected arrival, and so picks up the pace, her strokes harder, with more strength behind them. She glances up mid-breath a few minutes later, and is both delighted and terrified to see Brittany's eyes locked on her, studying her, a curious gaze concealed in those crystal blue orbs.

However, Santana is so wrapped up in trying to impress Brittany that she completely forgets to focus on the rapidly approaching pool wall, and so is momentarily stunned when her head comes into contact with the hard tiles and she is plunged into darkness. She feels her limbs growing heavy, eyes clouding over, as she tries unsuccessfully to drag her limp body up to the shimmering surface. She feels herself begin to descend into unconsciousness, but is jerked back to reality when she vaguely registers strong hands grasping her arms and pulling her out of the limpid pool.

Her eyes flutter open slowly as the cool air rouses her murky mind, to see Brittany peering down at her, sapphire eyes wide with panic, brows furrowed. She feels Brittany's arms locked firmly around her, and realises she is being held in the blonde's lap, her torso lying across Brittany's knees as the blonde presses a jelly icepack to the bruised area just above her left temple.

"Santana, are yo-"

But Brittany is suddenly shoved out of the way before she can finish her sentence, and Santana finds herself being yanked to her feet by an astonished and slightly perturbed Rachel.

"What the hell was that?" her manager spits, her tone not one of sympathy.

"I, uh, I lost focus, hit the wall…" Santana mumbles, thoughts jumbled and scattered across her mind, both from hitting her head and from being wrapped in Brittany's comforting embrace mere moments ago.

"You lost focus? You LOST FOCUS?! Look Lopez, I don't know what's going on with you, but frankly I don't care. You had better pull yourself together, and I mean NOW. We've got a championship competition coming up real soon and I swear to GOD, if you mess this up you're going to find yourself in so much crap you're going to need a giant shovel to dig yourself out. Got it?"

"Yes." Comes the mumbled response.

"Good. Now go home and get some rest. I expect to see you here first thing tomorrow morning, no excuses!" Rachel all but yells, before retreating to her office while mumbling to herself: "Damn athletes, moaning about the smallest fucking thing, I'm so sick of this…"

Santana straightens up, feeling the imminent rise of tears in her eyes, from the throbbing pain that is beginning to resonate through her head and the hurtful blow of Rachel being so blunt and insensitive, more so than usual. Brittany peeks out from behind the pillar she had used to hide from Rachel and her wrath, watching Santana tentatively. She sees the swimmer's shoulders shake, before she deflates, tears streaming down her tan cheeks. Brittany's heart goes out to her, and she rushes over without a second thought, halting just in front of Santana.

The brunette looks up, sniffling, wiping away a few tears as she surveys Brittany inquisitively. The blonde, now stood mere inches away from Santana, realises that she has no idea what to say or do. But luckily, her internal panic is soon diffused when Santana smiles sheepishly, rubbing at her eyes in a charmingly childlike way, before she meets Brittany's worried stare.

The blonde feels herself relax a little, and coughs softly, before quirking up one eyebrow and speaking:

"She's… something." She chuckles, motioning towards the direction Rachel had just gone off in.

"That's one way of putting it." Santana smiles, alas her smile quickly morphs into a grimace of pain as a surge of agony ensconces her aching head.

Brittany hurriedly runs over and grabs another ice pack, zooming back and placing it in Santana's trembling hand.

"Thank you so much."

Brittany is stunned speechless, not knowing how to respond to the sudden warm words.

"You're welcome, I guess. I mean, it's just an ice pack, it's no big deal-"

"I'm not just thanking you for the ice pack. You rescued me. God knows what could've happened if I had blacked out under there. So thank you, Brittany."

The blonde merely smiles, nodding to signal her acceptance of Santana's gratitude. She turns to leave, sure that Rachel is waiting for her, and she doesn't want to give the tiny yet incredibly intimidating woman more reason to scream the place down.

But before she has even taken two steps, she feels a soft hand encircle her wrist.

"Wait."

Brittany turns slowly, to see Santana lowering the ice pack, fiddling with it nervously as she breaks eye contact and fixes her eyes on one of the cracked tiles beneath her feet.

"So, I feel like I owe you for what you did today. I mean, you didn't have to pull me out, but you did, and I feel extremely grateful and am now indebted to you-"

"Santana, stop. I'm not expecting anything from you." Brittany states firmly.

"I know." The brunette smiles. "But I want to do something. Nothing major, just something to express my gratefulness to you."

Brittany opens her mouth to protest once more, but sees the steely look of determination and unwavering stubbornness in Santana's eyes and she knows that this is not negotiable.

"What did you have in mind?" she smiles, sighing in defeat.

"I want to take you out to dinner. I know this great little place, it's an Italian restaurant called Breadstix."

"Oh, I love that place!" Brittany exclaims, before she begins to blush, embarrassed by her sudden outburst.

"Great." Santana giggles, trying to hide her growing smile. "So, how about you give me your number, then I'll text you the details? Is tomorrow night okay?"

Brittany nods, her mind reeling from this unanticipated turn of events. She reaches into her pocket for a pen, tearing a scrap of paper off her clipboard before scribbling her number down, handing it to Santana shyly.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" the blonde speaks softly, smiling shyly.

"Tomorrow." Santana agrees with a barely contained grin.

"Alright then. It's a date." Brittany giggles, before turning and sauntering back through the door to the locker room.

Santana feels her stomach flip, excitement building within her already. But her mind is also reeling as she is plagued by a sense of unease, fixated on what Brittany had just said.

A date?

Santana pauses, lingering on the unsettling feeling of worry for a second longer before she shakes her head adamantly.

"Snap out of it."She mutters to herself vehemently, as she takes a seat on a plastic fold-out chair perched by the pool's edge. "You're just taking her out to dinner as your way of saying thank you. It's not like you're going to fuck her in the middle of the restaurant. Grow a pair, Santana."

And with that, she makes her way to the locker room, shoving open the door and letting it swing back with a resounding slam, before meandering over to the showers, planning on immersing herself in the soothing warm tendrils and forgetting about all the stress that is weighing on her mind, if only for a few precious moments.

* * *

Later on that evening, as she is preparing dinner, Brittany is interrupted by her phone buzzing on the counter next to her:

_**Be ready at 7pm tomorrow night. Text me your address, I'll head over to yours in a taxi. We'll go to Breadstix from there. See you tomorrow. –S**_

The blonde titters at Santana's dominant tone, grinning to herself before typing a reply.

_**Well well well, someone likes being in charge. **_

She reads over her words, before deciding that they are too forward and deletes them, retyping her message.

_**I live in Apartment 3B on Washington Avenue, near Braxton Park. Third button from the top on the buzzer board. I look forward to seeing you. –B**_

Much better. Simple, yet effective. She smiles, content with her answer, before pressing send and returning to peeling her carrots. However, her work is soon interrupted once again by her phone going off.

_**I look forward to seeing you too. It'll be nice to see you in something other than those plain clothes Rachel makes you wear. Something… sexier. –S**_

Brittany's mouth falls open as she loses grip on the carrots and they tumble to the floor, landing with a dull thud. The blonde then proceeds to simply stare at her phone for a while, mouth agape, until she manages to compose herself enough to continue making her meal, all the while thinking of Santana and their impending night out, for which she is growing increasingly anxious about.

But she makes herself busy, engrossing herself in her cooking, managing to subdue her worries for a few relaxing hours.

* * *

Santana smiles as the taxi comes to a stop, eyes tracing the outline of Brittany's building. She steps out onto the sidewalk, admiring the simple yet lovely design; smooth marble walls, tall windows, some decorated with beautiful stained-glass mosaics. The lobby is bright and airy, adorned with exotic plants and a trickling water feature to the right-hand side.

She makes her way over to the elevator, pressing the third button as Brittany had instructed. The lift arrives moments later, and she steps in, spending the short journey up trying to steady her racing heart. She is pulled out of her reverie by a loud Ding!, and steps out of the elevator into a brightly-lit corridor, the wall opposite her showing at large chrome '3'. Santana glances right, seeing apartments 3C and 3D, and so turns to the left, where in a matter of seconds she is facing the door of apartment 3B.

She takes one final deep breath, before knocking softly.

"Just a second!" she hears Brittany shout from the other side of the door. "Crap, where the hell are my shoe- OW!"

"Brittany?" Santana calls uncertainly. "Everything okay in there?"

"Yeah!" the blonde replies breathlessly. "Just had a little mishap with a lamp and an unruly chord. Just give me one second…"

Santana's head suddenly whips up in surprise as the door is flung open. She stares at the sight before her, mouth hanging open, words failing to describe the delectable woman standing in front of her.

Brittany is dressed in a pair of high-waisted white trousers, which fit very snugly around her incredibly long legs. Wow. Those legs. Santana has difficulty tearing her eyes away from them, but she's glad when she does because the rest of Brittany is just as stunning. She has completed the outfit with a tight-fitting tank top, which pushes up her cleavage that has Santana's mouth watering hungrily.

"Wow."

But Brittany almost misses Santana's awed whisper, for she herself is too focused on the brunette to pay attention to anything else.

The swimmer decided to go for a simple yet elegant look, donning a purple-and-black striped dress that framed her slim figure and ample cleavage, along with knee-high black boots.

Brittany finds herself drawn to the outline of Santana's abs through her dress; weeks of watching Santana swimming hadn't even began to do justice to the body she had under that swimming costume.

Santana then realises that a silence has descended upon them, and clears her throat gently, bringing Brittany out of her trance.

"So, we ready to go?" the brunette smiles.

Brittany nods, reaching back to grab her bag off the side table before closing her door and standing next to Santana. They both pause, neither one entirely sure of what to do next, before Santana acts first and loops her arm through Brittany's, leading her back down the hallway to the elevators.

The blonde feels her heart pound jaggedly as Santana touches her, but remains composed, smiling shyly as the lift doors open and Santana motions for her to go in first.

The ride down to the lobby is almost unbearable, the air charged, thick with sexual tension and unspoken desires, until the doors finally burst open seconds later, Santana letting out a sigh of both relief and sexual frustration as she leads Brittany through the foyer and out to the awaiting cab.

"So Brittany, your place is amazing." Santana begins speaking as they climb into the taxi.

"You like it?" Brittany asks bashfully, blushing a little under Santana's gaze.

"Yeah, it's beautiful." The brunette answers sincerely.

"Thanks. My dad found it for me as a gift for when I graduated from college. We split the rent, which I am so grateful for because I'd never be able to afford a place like that on the internship salary Rachel is paying me. But my dad's awesome like that, he's always been there for me."

Santana smiles, watching Brittany's face light up as she talks about her father.

"So are you close with your dad?" she enquires softly.

Brittany nods.

"My mum passed away when I was young, so growing up it was just me and my dad."

"You don't have any siblings?" Santana asks, frowning a little.

"No. After she had me, my mum got really sick, so they couldn't have any more kids. But she always said that I was all she needed." Brittany spoke quietly, a sad smile on her face.

"Oh, Brittany." Santana's face falls, and without a second of hesitation she has reached across the taxi and placed her hand gently over Brittany's.

The blonde slowly lifts her gaze, her eyes finding Santana's, seeing nothing but warmth and comfort in them. She breaks the connection seconds later, averting her gaze back down so she is staring at the floor, still painfully aware of Santana's soft hand atop her own.

Santana notices the slight change in Brittany's aura and reluctantly withdraws her hand, still watching Brittany in the corner of her eye though.

They settle into a semi-comfortable silence, only broken by the occasional sniff emitted by the taxi driver. Their eyes find each other on more than one occasion, but neither woman can really find good enough words to rectify the unsettling mixture of tension and angst in the air.

Thankfully, the heavy hush that has pervaded the atmosphere is finally shattered few minutes later when they glance outside and see the taxi pulling up outside Breadstix.

"Ladies." The taxi driver nods, signalling their cue to exit the vehicle.

Santana reaches into her purse and extracts some notes, handing them to the driver and telling him to keep the change, climbing out before Brittany even has a chance to refute her. The blonde clambers out, straightening up and crossing her arms in defiance. Santana stands across from her on the pavement and surveys her, perplexed and slightly amused as to why Brittany is suddenly acting so obstinate.

"Brittany? What's up?" Santana asks meekly, afraid that their conversation about the blonde's mother had upset her.

"You just paid for the whole taxi fare." The blonde states, her voice flat.

Santana merely regards Brittany, brows rutted in confusion, not understanding the blonde's anger.

"Is there a problem with that?"

"Yes! You can't just pay for everything, that's not right! I have to at least contribute in some way-"

But Brittany's words are cut off by Santana placing a finger gently on the blonde's lips.

"Shh. Tonight is my way of repaying you, remember? So yes, I will be paying for everything. Now, shall we go inside? I'm starving."

Brittany turns and enters the restaurant, trying to hide the grin that is fighting to dominate her striking features. She feels a soothing warmth spread through her, starting at her toes and coursing through her body until it is wrapped around her heart. She turns to look at Santana who is following in her wake, the brunette sending her a cheeky wink, causing Brittany to stumble a little.

Santana hurriedly rushes forward and grasps Brittany before she can fall over, letting out a small sigh as their breath mingles, their faces mere centimetres apart.

"Uh, thanks." Brittany smiles timidly, her eyes boring into Santana's until the brunette releases her, guiding her into their assigned booth.

They then proceed to order their food, and the night continues on a positive note, the air around them filled with laughter.

But there is a noticeable change in the warm ambience when Brittany unexpectedly reaches across the table and places her hand over Santana's, mimicking the swimmer's actions from the taxi ride. Only this time, Santana doesn't giggle or smile at Brittany; in fact, she does quite the opposite as she retracts her hand swiftly as if she has been stung by a bee, placing both hands in her lap. Brittany looks hurt, baffled as to why Santana has suddenly rejected her advances when she seemed so comfortable with her just an hour ago.

"Santana?" Brittany questions softly, trying to make eye contact with her across their booth.

But Santana refuses to lift her eyes from the table, fiddling with her napkin nervously.

"Santana, talk to me. What just happened here?" Brittany presses, her voice slightly more strained.

The brunette sighs heavily, before raising her head and looking Brittany in the eye.

"I can't… we can't… Look Brittany, I feel a really strong connection between us, and I like you, I do, but I can't be seen out in public holding hands with a woman."

"What?"

"Well, it's Rachel, she… she thinks that if I come out, then it'll put my career in jeopardy. They may not let me swim professionally anymore if they find out I'm gay and then I'll have nothing. And Rachel said that I have to keep my personal life separate from my professional life, so that's what I'm doing. I can't risk losing my job, I just can't."

"But… they can't do that! I mean, it's 2013, for fuck's sake!"

Brittany's raised voice attracts the attention of a couple seated a few tables away, but she continues, much to Santana's dismay.

"I just don't understand how you are so… so CALM about all this! You're keeping a part of yourself -an amazing, wonderful part- hidden, just so can maintain your status as a professional athlete?!"

"No, it's not like that!" Santana protests, her calm façade beginning to dissipate as she feels anger simmering in her veins.

"Oh yeah? Well then, by all means, tell me what it's like!" Brittany sneers, her tone dripping with venom.

"It's not just about maintaining some absurd rank in society, Brittany! This is my livelihood and my passion! And I'm not just going to throw it away over some stupid date with an intern!"

The words are out before Santana can properly think them through, and they hit Brittany hard. The blonde is affronted, stunned speechless by the harsh words flung her way; she stands, her eyes brimming with hurt.

"Well, it's nice to know what you really think of me." she chokes out, before standing up and turning to leave.

"No, Brittany. Wait. I'm so sorry…" Santana pleads, but her soft cries fall on deaf ears as Brittany walks away, shoulders slumped, tears trickling down her porcelain cheeks as she hails a cab.

She sobs for the entire ride home.

* * *

**It was kind of depressing writing something sad today, since it's my birthday, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer, so I did it anyway. Thank you all so much for the reviews and support I've received, it all means so much to me. I really hope you're all enjoying this so far, and the final installment should be up within the next week or so :) And don't hesitate to leave a review telling me what you thought of this chapter! **


	3. Rescue

The next few days are an endless cycle of numbing sadness for Santana. Luckily it's the weekend, which suits her fine as she wants to do nothing apart from mope around her apartment aimlessly. Rachel calls a couple of times to make sure the swimmer's head injury has healed sufficiently, but each time Santana gives a few simple answers and then ends the call as bluntly and quickly as she can.

She can focus on nothing else except the guilt that is consuming her, plaguing her with flashbacks of the hurt on Brittany's face, the betrayal the blonde had so obviously felt when Santana had rejected her so harshly. Santana is filled with regret, and wants nothing more than to grovel in front of Brittany on her hands and knees and beg for the woman's forgiveness. But Brittany is ignoring her calls and texts, and as Santana listens to the tone of Brittany's answering machine for the millionth time today, she rubs at her temple and lets out a deep sigh of frustration mingled with a small sorrowful sob.

She spends the rest of her evening curled up on the sofa in her sweatpants and oversized jumper, watching Friends re-runs and trying not to let her scattered thoughts drift back to that dazzling smile and those enchanting sapphire eyes…

* * *

Santana wakes up the next day feeling pretty much the same; her heart heavy with remorse and melancholia, just wishing there was a way to rectify her harsh, senseless words.

She knows that contacting Brittany on the phone is hopeless, as the blonde has now turned off her phone; with that being pretty much a lost cause, Santana eventually resolves to find Brittany at work first thing Monday morning, so she can apologise and clear this entire thing up.

With that decision in mind, she feels slightly better, and spends Sunday cleaning her apartment and devising a heartfelt apology speech to Brittany in her head. But her thoughts are disturbed by her phone ringing loudly from her bedroom, and she drops the rag she is cleaning with and races across the living room, almost breaking her neck in the process. She lunges across the bed for her phone, eyes burning into the screen.

'**Rachel calling…' **it reads.

She sighs, shoulders drooping, her hopes of Brittany calling back dashed within seconds. But she composes herself a little, straightening up before answering with a resigned:

"Hello Rachel."

"Santana, hi. I take it you've recovered from your little head trauma the other day?"

Santana inhales deeply, her blood boiling at Rachel's snarky tone. But she supresses her anger, clenching her fists before muttering:

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Good. Now, as you well know, we've got Mr Chang's charity event tomorrow night, which is being hosted by his wife Tina and himself."

Crap. Santana had completely forgotten about that. She shakes her head, pulling herself out of her thoughts and listening to Rachel who is still babbling on.

"…and you have been asked to be the official representative of our agency, so I expect you to be here bright and early tomorrow morning so we can brief you on what to say and then send you into hair and make-up to make you look your utmost best."

The swimmer takes a deep breath, before putting on an overly-cheerful tone and replying:

"Sure. I'll be there. Bright and early."

"Great. Bye!" Rachel calls, ending the call with a resounding click.

Santana takes a moment to think, her mind whirring. She decides that she has to get to Brittany tomorrow morning before she is whisked off to the charity event and loses a prime opportunity to talk to the blonde. If that happened, she would have to wait even longer to see her and Santana doesn't think she can wait that long.

With her plan formulated in her mind, she packs up her cleaning things and sets about preparing for an early night; she has a feeling that tomorrow is going to be a pretty long day.

* * *

The swimmer arrives at the Lima training centre for athletes at 7am, coffee buzzing through her system. She is pumped and ready, fully set on finding Brittany and straightening out this mess so they can go back to how they were before Santana's tactless words had carved such a deep canyon between them.

As Santana is walking towards Rachel's office, she suddenly has a revelation; whenever there is a charity event like this one, she's always been allowed to take a plus one. In the past she had always just gone with Blaine, because neither of them had anyone to bring and Rachel liked the idea of the two gay sportspersons being each other's 'beards', but now… now she could ask Brittany. The sheer simple brilliance of the idea has Santana beaming, and there is a spring in her step as she approaches the corridor that houses the head offices. But her journey is abruptly brought to a halt when she suddenly comes face to face with none other than Rachel.

"Rachel! I was just-"

"Lopez, there's no time for any funny business! You are to come with me right away so we can prep you for your speech tonight – we don't want you getting carried away and blurting out something stupid like that moron Sam Evans did last year."

Santana gulps a little as she recalls the previous year's mishap, which triggered a rather angry committee board and ended with Sam, one of the swimmers on the company's synchronised swimming team, being expunged from the organisation; in Layman's terms, he had been fired faster than a midget out of a canon at the circus.

So she simply nods to signal her agreement, following Rachel meekly, keeping one eye peeled for any flashes of flaxen hair flitting past her vision. But, to her dismay, Brittany is nowhere in sight.

However, she is soon occupied with memorising the pre-prepared speech, and thoughts of Brittany are pushed to the back of her mind for later. Hours of posture-correction and diction lessons pass, and she lets out a sigh of relief when she's finally set free, determined to find Brittany now and clear up this mess before the event tonight.

But, before she even makes it to the door, Rachel is blocking her path, a bemused expression on her face as she looks up at Santana.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Santana panics, then decides to tell Rachel the truth. Well, kind of.

"I, uh, I was going to find Brittany, to ask her if she wanted to come as my plus one tonight. You know, just to give her the experience of going to an event like this, while she works here."

Rachel scoffs, rolling her eyes before placing her hands firmly on Santana's shoulders.

"Lopez, there is no way in hell that is happening. You're going to go to this thing with Blaine, to maintain your heterosexual facades, like you always do, and you can see your _friends _in your own time. Okay, sweetcheeks?"

Santana nods miserably, feeling her heart sink into the pit of her stomach, her mind clouding over with despair.

"Wonderful. Now, be back here in an hour so we can get you fitted for a dress. A lovely evening gown will be perfect for this kind of thing, don't you think?"

Rachel saunters off without waiting for a reply, leaving Santana feeling distraught. The swimmer begins to race around the facility in the allotted hour of free time, becoming more and more panicked when she can't find Brittany anywhere. The need to make things right between them is eating her alive; she's never felt a need like this before, a need to be close to the blonde again, to see her warm smile, to hear that infectious giggle. She knows what she's doing is dangerous, and that she's risking everything she's worked hard for, but she also knows that Brittany is special, and that letting her go would be the most foolish thing she has ever done.

A flash of movement unexpectedly catches her eye, accompanied by a swish of golden hair, and she bolts towards it, grabbing a swinging arm wildly as the faceless woman rounds the corner ahead of her. But she then looks up to see Kitty Wilde, one of the gymnasts on Blaine's team, regarding her with a quizzical expression as she surveys Santana's hand clamped around her wrist.

"Uh, sorry." Santana mutters, letting go rapidly. "Thought you were someone else."

The short strawberry blonde smiles cautiously before turning and continuing to walk towards her destination, turning to look back at Santana curiously before disappearing into one of the adjoining rooms that lie off the narrow corridor they are currently in.

Santana lets out a cry of frustration, desperation building within her as the seconds tick by. She slumps against the wall, sliding down before burying her face in her arms, pulling her knees up against her chest. She feels tears building in her eyes, but is roused from her distress by a familiarly soothing tone.

"Santana?"

"Oh, hey Blaine." The brunette sniffles, as the petite man crouches in front of her, his dark curls bouncing around his face as he tilts his head, his ample eyebrows creased with worry.

"What's up, buddy?" he enquires softly.

Santana had liked Blaine from the moment they had met; this was down to the man's infallible likeability and his incomparable ability to make any situation feel better with his soft voice and comforting words.

But she doesn't think even Blaine can help her with this, so she simply collects herself and turns to Blaine, a smile plastered on her face.

"Nothing, I'm fine. Just a little stressed about tonight."

Blaine can sense the forceful strain behind her smile, but decides not to push the matter, instead helping Santana to her feet and looping an arm around her neck.

"Come on then, San. Let's go see what hideous outfits they've prepared for us tonight." He chortles, even managing to entice a tiny giggle out of the troubled brunette.

Blaine leads her back towards the prep room where she had worked on her speech, arm draped loosely around her shoulder, a gesture that she finds unexpectedly reassuring. But her moment of serenity doesn't last long as they are herded into the room by Rachel, dresses and tuxedos thrust into their faces; the brunette finds herself being hustled into a lilac floor-length dress, which is actually a lot nicer than she was expecting, while Blaine is prodded into a tailored suit that actually makes him look rather dapper. Then, before Santana even knows what's happening, she is being bundled into a limo with Blaine and finds herself entering the grand building where the event is being held all too soon.

She takes a moment to peruse the décor, slightly in awe of the grandeur awaiting them inside. The floor of the main event room is entirely coated in white marble, which is flecked with dashing speckles of rich amber and deep jade crystals, embedded in the snow-white stone to create a striking contrast beneath the aristocrat's feet as they walk the length of the room with their acquaintances. The windows too are mesmerising, adorned with intricate designs entrenched in the glass itself, the frames swathed with velvety white curtains that hang down elegantly. The room is lit by a large chandelier, but its simplistic yet beautiful silver design reduces the judgmental tones that Santana usually reserves for pompously narcissistic displays such as this.

After she has taken a moment to lose herself in the elegant splendour of the room, she returns to the fragmented thoughts that have been rattling through her mind all day. She comes to one final conclusive decision, and vows to find Brittany as soon as she can once the event is over to talk to her about everything that has happened.

But, as Santana turns to greet a colleague of Rachel's from another sporting agency, she stops dead in her tracks as she sees an all-too familiar blonde head of hair across the room. Her words die in her throat as she stares, wondering if she is imagining this. But as she sees Blaine follow her line of vision and wave, she knows this is real. And she is frozen with horror.

She can't believe this is happening.

Of course Brittany would be here.

Of course Rachel would bring her assistant along to an event like this.

And of course she would choose this exact moment to turn around and see Santana walking arm in arm with Blaine as they enter the hall.

Santana sees Brittany's face fall, the hurt etched deep into her crystal blue eyes as she watches the brunette saunter in attached to Blaine. She then watches as the blonde hurriedly composes herself and fixes a too-bright smile on her face as she and Rachel approach Mike and Tina Chang, the benefactors who arranged the event. Santana sees pleasantries being exchanged, but she cannot tear her eyes away from Brittany's, those cobalt orbs, normally so full of light, now dull and dark with pain.

Santana knows that this is only adding fuel to the fire after what she said to Brittany at the restaurant, and wishes there was a way to just fix everything right now.

Santana spends the rest of the evening in a haze, robotically greeting fellow athletes and spouting her memorised speech on the stage before slinking back to her seat, her mind firmly settled on how she is going to make this up to Brittany. The image of Brittany's wounded expression is burned onto the back of her eyelids, and every time she blinks it serves up a fresh reminder of how badly she has hurt the innocent woman and how desperately she wants to right the wrong she has committed.

She begins thinking of ways to show her regret for her callous words, and is in the middle of wondering which flowers Brittany would like most when she sees her across the room, laughing hysterically at something that is being whispered into her ear by an alluring blonde woman with hypnotic hazel eyes. Santana feels red-hot jealousy flare up in her chest as she recognises the woman as Quinn Fabray, one of Lima's most accomplished lawyers and a notorious womanizer, and she fights to control her breathing as a red haze descends over her eyes.

As she watches Quinn trail a finger slowly up Brittany's arm and another bolt of jealousy spikes within her, Santana realises that, while she cares about her career and maintaining a certain image, she also cares a hell of a lot about Brittany.

And then it dawns on her; what Rachel has been spouting to her over all these years is, in fact, wrong, and more importantly than that, it's immoral. She should not be hiding who she is in order to have a successful career; if anything, she should be using her societal pedestal to inform people and help others who may be struggling themselves with personal issues like confusion with their sexuality and self-identification.

With that stunning revelation firmly in mind, before she has even completed her next thought she finds her feet carrying her over to where Brittany is standing. The blonde senses movement coming towards her and her eyes widen as she spots Santana storming across the room, making a beeline for her. Brittany opens her mouth to ask what Santana is doing, but before she can get the words out, Santana has already gently covered her lips with her own, her hands travelling up to softly hold Brittany's face as she kisses her once, lingering momentarily before pulling back slowly, eyes fluttering open, dark brown orbs flashing with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. A heavy silence blankets the room as one by one, all eyes fall upon the scene that is unfolding.

Brittany is frozen, eyes glazed over, staring at Santana, utterly speechless. A few unbearably tense moments pass, until a resounding clap is heard from within the swathe of people surrounding them. One by one, the claps multiply, building to a crescendo until the room is filled with whoops and cheers.

Santana's eyes find Brittany, who is grinning from ear to ear. They embrace tightly, while the blonde who had previously captured Brittany's attention edges away slowly until she dissolves into the crowd.

"This out enough for you?" Santana smirks, taking Brittany's hand and intertwining their fingers together reassuringly. Brittany giggles, ducking her head shyly. The hubbub around them eventually subdues, the rest of the event goers returning casually to their conversations, much to Santana's surprise.

Her joy doesn't last long, however, as a painstakingly familiar tone drifts across the room.

"Lopez!"

"Uh-oh…" Santana mutters, wincing a little as Rachel comes storming towards her.

"I only have one thing to say to you Santana…" she states, and Santana bows her head, bracing herself for the worst.

"Genius!"

"Huh?" the brunette's head whips up, ogling Rachel with a look of complete and utter confusion on her face. Brittany looks just as baffled, as Rachel grins, throwing an arm around Santana's shoulders.

"Coming out like that, making such a bold statement? It's brilliant! I don't know why I didn't think of this before!" she continues.

"But… you said-" Santana begins.

"I know what I said; it would be bad for your reputation, blah blah blah. But it's occurred to me; gay is now okay! So instead of hiding who you are, we should be proclaiming it to the world! And who knows, this could win you some sponsorships deals from companies like Subaru; you know how they love their lesbians!" she winks, before walking over to the wine bar, shaking her head in amazement.

Santana and Brittany stare at each other momentarily, before letting out squeals of ecstasy.

"I can't believe it!" Santana exclaims, pulling Brittany in for another hug.

"I'm so proud of you." The blonde murmurs into Santana's ear, before pulling back and kissing Santana's knuckle softly.

The brunette blushes and averts her gaze shyly, before meeting Brittany's eyes once more, her own eyes shining with happiness.

"Well, now that no one exploded or died with that revelation, I've got an idea. How about we get out of here and give that dinner another go?" Santana smiles, faltering a little as she waits for Brittany's response.

"I thought you'd never ask." Brittany grins, much to Santana's relief. She tugs on Santana's hand, leading her out towards her car, the moon shining brightly in the darkening evening sky, illuminating the beginning of something beautiful.

* * *

**I know this was a short story overall, but I hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless! And let me know what you all thought of this last chapter, reviews are very much appreciated as always :)**


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